Friday, January 6, 2017

To me.... With Love!!!

Dear You, 
How is life 15 years back? I know what & how you feel, this letter hence is a heads up for you. You need to see yourself, for what you are, not what others think or want of you. I know you feel ignored most of the times, you feel averaged out. The life which is portrayed in front of you right now is like a race, in which I know you are hardly interested in running. It’s not fun, it’s the same race where camel is made to run against a deer and they are assessed on a horse scale. It’s now that everyone wants to fit in, till a few years later everyone would want to stand out. It’s fine not to enjoy it, its fine not to have an aspiration to want to win the alleged race. Life will always be a race, and it is more important to stand still for a while & decide where you want to participate. Every red finish line can’t measure your destiny. And it’s fine not to finish first or even to finish last or not finish the race, altogether, if that is what you desire. Life works from milestones to milestones and you have every right to choose your own milestones, adopt your own ways to reach to those, but once you make a decision, it is important to be honest, more to yourself than to anyone else.  

Don’t pressurize your mind to identify what you are good at, make the world your oyster, foster as much as you can and whatever you want. Always remember it is perfectly fine to be average, but always try to keep safe distance from mediocrity. As much attention is paid on growing, try to grow deep and not just tall. It will always help you more in reflecting on the deeds that you peruse.  

The world is not fair, darling. You should understand that, but also remember that everything can’t be measured by metric ton. For someone, smelling the new flower in garden makes their day, but for few even a chauffeur driven car is reason to be frowned upon. Hence, always be at peace within and remember it is fine even when things are not fair. What matters at the end of the day is how much you can smile and what is your capacity to laugh, with or sometimes even without reasons.  

The crooked teeth you worry about so much, don’t. It is fine, it is more than fine, it is beautiful. You would one day realise that human mind is very tricky. You will always be a little fat, little short or with too many pimples. Perfect weight & body are myths, like a unicorn. Focus more on beautifying minds, that is the longer lasting investment, for everything else you will have Photoshop. 

And most important of all things, nurture your friendships. You will not need a crowd of people, when you feel lost, but that one friend who would understand your need to kill people around and would stop you from doing so. If not just listens to you, you’d grow old to recognise that it is an important human need, ‘to be heard’. It becomes necessary to have someone who listens to you, and it is even more important to listen to yourself. The chaos grows inside-out and the trick is to keep it in check, is to keep communicating. Never underestimate the power of self to plunge within and find peace in solitude. Treasure the friendships that you feel will go long way. They will, and trust me when I say this, there will be times when they will be the ones keeping you from submerging.  

And at the end, keep reading. I know how you love that and it will take you a long way. Keep exploring things you enjoy doing, because this is the time. Every time after this you would find yourself gasping for time. Understand this that it is always good to be diligent but once in a while stop, breathe, feel the beauty around and within and then continue. Learn to appreciate yourself, that will make you see good in others as well.  

Life doesn’t come in boxes, you would find some simple gifts, along the various walks of life, it can be people, opportunities or simply some time to spurge; don’t forget to acknowledge them. Remember to dream, because in the end everyone becomes chasers of targets and cease to have the time or capacity to dream. This is the time, dream away, and find ways to follow them. Believe it or not, life is going to work out beautifully. You won't be perfect, but you'll be enough.

I hope you enjoy every phase of it.         
Loads of love

Your older self

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Chaos... or the lack of it...

Chaos symbolises our lives,
infant's shriek that epitomises its beginning, and the howl that ends it all.
                       
                           We in all times seek peace & quiet,
                           while its chaos that marks our subsistence.

It's roar that initiates the war,
or the tumultuous which signifies the unquiet of mind.
                       
                             Chaos makes way for change,
                             its chaos in the apogee thats brings in the change.
                       
Chaos is comprised of words or devoid of it,
either ways its latency is detrimental.

                            The alter universe, which is extruded of the pandemonium resulted,
                             it revolves around in sequestered dimensions.

Only to hit when least explicated,
to break into pieces & shatter in lintels, reverberating chaos.

Chaos symbolises life, concealed, coveted but omnipotent. 
Life symbolises chaos, its a part of peace process, 
its not the hurdle, it is innate part of concord.
there is no eluding chaos,
it needs to be embraced, in order to restore final extrication, profoundness, chaos, within. 

                               
                   

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Where you believe there is magic ... you will find it!

I was again tucked in at night,
Kisses were blown and light put off.

This was when from the stream of light flowing in,
From behind my curtain window,
Flew in the gnome with the baseball bat in hand.

He told me, he knew I was scared,
of the bigger guys on the field.
These never let me play with them.

I sat lonely, thwarted on the steps of the schools,
Hoping to get through the team.
Make use of the baseball bat grandpa gifted for birthday.

The white bearded man, taught me to swing the bat, hard & bad.
He scared me at first, but now he is my best friend.
We play, read & laugh, all night long.

I told my mumma all about my new friend,
She was scared and angry, all at once.
And I was sent to the bad doctor.

We spoke together for hours & played at times,
I liked the chocolate I got at the end,
But I was flooded with bitter tablets too.

It’s been 17 years since,
I came back from work to see the glimpse on her face.
She told me about the faerie, best friend.

I smiled and hugged her tight,

Tucked her in, and asked her to kiss the blue eyed fairy goodnight…


Saturday, November 5, 2016

And in that moment I knew…

Did you notice that new girl in the intern section in the medicine wing? She definitely seems too awkward in her own skin. The girl who passed out among the creamy layer in her class but is disquieting when it comes to the hour-long history taking and making concoctions in reference to the nature (character) of patients. Here is a gentle reminder to the readers that I mean no disrespect to any profession, rather this is the disarray of my own mind as a 22 year old. Coming back to me, arr her… She, the one who didn’t have the intrepidity or motivation for that matter to gulp down the shloks (Sanskrit chanting) in order to get through the Masters exams. She was too interoperable to dive head first into the Masters degree in Ayurveda, without a promise of any future after investing or squandering 4 years in pursuing and completing masters, again with the creamy layer of the class. There of course was an option of getting married to a established doctor or their son and have a medicinal household of taking hour-long patient history and making concoctions. All this sounds like I am talking sense now, searching to move away from something that I was clearly not interested in and was definitely not a great choice for carrier as it offered no returns after a major investment of time. But at that point in time this exaltation led to my exile from all the others, who wanted to be a part of this herd.

I was alone- physically, mentally & spiritually. Losing interest in the present field and oblivious towards what else can be done. It was when I came across people, who were running in another race of getting into MBA, it was a rat race in itself, but an interesting one at that. So there it came the so called break through, I had to pursue masters and I deliberated that a MNC shall in anyways be a better option than my own personal potion business. Hence my concentration shifted from quaffing antidotes to solving equations and applying logical reasoning and reading 3 newspapers a day. After 6 year long routine, this was a welcoming change. It was the time when I did let go of all my inhibitions and obfuscations and devoured myself towards its preparation; this decision that was made could make or break things for my future. I was not a warrior in this time, I had my parents backing but I was no less than a trooper, I was for the first time, fighting a fight to stand out of the crowd, daring to walk in an opposite direction, swaying against the wind. All I can say is that, it did need strength and commitment not to lose hope halfway.

I still remember the day, the drowsy morning when during my morning routine of browsing through the morning paper, while shortlisting the articles which needed thorough reviewing. I came across the notice for admissions calling for Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai. This was the first time I saw such varied course list and was drawn towards it instantaneously. The word Tata made my interest and trust grow and the full-length research began, courses, seats, reservations, exam pattern, you name it and I found things about it. It became my single  focal point of obsession and with it grew the raging desire to get through. Time came for the written tests and it was the single most exhausting exam that I have taken in my life. Since I had applied for multiple courses, I had to sit through 4.5 hours and write 3 essays back to back, while sitting on a wooden bench in a dilapidated government school in Nagpur. My back was wrenched after a hour but it was something sorcerous that kept me going. I came back and waited for interview calls, everyday. And yes the day came, when a girl from Chhattisgarh despite lack of support travelled to Mumbai towards the dream she has had repeatedly every night for the last 3 months. Yes you remember me telling you that my parents backed me, until the societal pressure got to them. Now it was just me, my hard work and my fate against everything and everyone else.

I gave my best in the rounds of group discussions and was desperately waiting for my turn to get through the doors and dazzle in the interview, I was confident. My name was called out, I was asked to give my introduction then came the next question, I wasn’t confident with the answer. And I was asked to leave. I was shattered. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion; I came out of the room, unable to compose myself at the same time unable to express myself. I sat on the porch of main quadrangle and closed eyes and sat there for an hour, looking around the mesmerizing atmosphere. A confluence of people with various cultural, ethic, national backgrounds coming together to learn, live and last for lifetime as TISSIANS. It was that moment I knew in a very long time what I wanted. This was it, but regrettably I couldn’t do anything more other than hope, wish & pray. Everyday since the interview, till I received my confirmation, 19 days, were passed twiddling thumbs. I have no recollection of anything significant done in those 19 days, and yes the last day was monumental. That friends, is the day I think of when I really want to remember how you feel when you are happy, contented and triumphed. This was the first time I did not need to use words to answer my eyes did the work. And I am indebted to TISS, forever, for what I am, how I think, and how I do things. Cheers for many more of such TISS moments.



Saturday, September 24, 2016

Days & lives of glory…misery… Woes of oppressed middle class working Indian

The day started yet again in similar way, the alarm rang and I tried to steal a couple of minutes of the morning bliss, after hitting snooze. Gone are those days of feeling the sunshine on our face, enjoying the early morning breeze ruffle through your hair. Now the most worrisome thought is, if the maid will show up late again, shall I prep for breakfast? Somehow the morning one hour escapes with the speed of light. Morning works with an automated schedule, brush your teeth, take shower, and put on cloths and the realization strikes when you are already on road, driving towards work hoping to reach on time. Few moments when your new favorite song is played on radio, you rejoice a few moments of solace before you stand on the war front, yet again.

The 8 hours at work, yes you have read it right, “eight bloody hours” of life everyday, you never get back, doing things of little, somewhat & slightly consequential work. In the day-to-day life, its never the efforts those which are counted, its always the results. In this Krishna’s land of Geeta Saar, we the mortals still worry about results more than what we put in for the results. And the people who achieve results without any diligence or rather work are the new superstars. This is the time you realize how misapprehended Duryodhana’s feelings were; he was an average competitive person, who’s rights were disregarded only because his father was blind and stood second in the race of birth. Anyways back to my wretchedness. The world is unjust, people judge you by appearance, they judge you by your demeanor and if nothing works then by how good things are for you; behind-the-curtain, sweat & blood is never acknowledged.


The world is prejudiced towards both genders, but dare you be a strong woman fighting to stand tall in this man’s world (yes I call it that, and yes I agree with what they show in Pink). People (men & women), the try their best to prehend every opportunity at resplendence you have. Embattling stereotypes is an everyday fight, fought against almost everyone you know. You work to earn money, to lead a comfortable life and earn an identity (not in preferential order for all). We work for & towards these, and in whatever quantity these are achieved are never enough (not for middle class people atleast). You earn enough to plan an international holiday every year but not enough to quit your disappointing job, till something good comes along. There is this set of queer values we are gifted along with the traditional cutlery, as we grow up. These are suggestive of how you should lead your life towards satisfying retirement. This involves everything to do with achieving and overachieving at academics, work, and marriage & beyond; but the sign of satisfaction hasn’t hit my cords yet.


The day with my rants comes to end (not because I am pleased at myself, rather tired of my screed monologue), and the struggle with traffic begins. There are other species of my kind, peering through the glass windows; those fatigued eyes behind driving wheels fight another war to reach the other end of the battleground. All I see by now is bed, the alluring sleep where I dream of satisfaction that comes without stagnation. There are no battles, no hypocrisy, and no forced niceties. You dream to laugh, that axenic, unadulterated laugh, I can’t remember when I laughed so much till it pained to laugh. This is the favorite time of the day, six hours of sheer bliss, where I am just me, till I hit the snooze button again.

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